Getting Ready for My Gotcha Day
Adoption Day, Feature — By FauxClaud on September 24, 2009 at 8:00 am
Not all discussions are going to have a resolution..and for many discussions that is not even the point to begin with.
This isn’t a “Gotcha is yucky for “some” people so we have to find a new word and enforce it on everyone and judge those harshly who use it” post .
It’s a way for people to share how they feel…hopefully as an adoptee I know so beautifully put it: “All we can do is listen and try to hear each other, and then be open to reexamining stuff if we hear something that makes us think twice.”
My son was born Nov 14, I saw him for the last time on the 16th, and signed off on the 18th. I went home the next day. He went to his new family on the 18th once all was signed off. I imagine that they were thrilled beyond all belief when they got the call to come pick up their new baby. For THEM the 18th is probably a wonderful day in their memory..whether they acknowledge it in any way or not..I don’t know.
I don’t do well the month of November at all.
I had a friend call it recently “the season of Max” and it is well put. Not thinking about it, being totally happy and content with life in general, putting the positive “spin” on it…nothing matters..around Nov 4th, a deep unrest starts. Often I have not been even mentally aware of the cause. It’ like a bad PMS come home to roost…for a long time. I get irritable, weepy, nasty, unrest, depressed, unable to sleep..Eventually, I realize the date and recognize my old friend…ah, yes…that is why I feel this way. Even if my brain tries to forget, I swear the cells of my soul remember and go into mourning. It is like they shut down.
I cannot ignore my relinquished son’s birthday no matter how much I might try.
I become anxious about “the day”…by time it is here..I am in a bizarre mental frenzy of sorts. Things come back to me that have been dormant all year…new thoughts and memories surface. I always write to my son on his birthday. I always cry. The next few days, I go though the motions but I am living in the past….I go back to the precious 48 hours in the hospital when he was him and still mine…no longer a resident of my body but firmly entrapped in my heart..when I could hold him, smell him, watch his butterfly lashes flick in his minute baby dreams..when I whispered over and over again how sorry I was, how I could see no other way out, how I loved him and how I must do what I would soon do, how I had no choice. The 16th is worse that his actual birthday…I remember the last time I held him, the blinding searing pain of walking ut the door hits me all over with new freshness. Hands down…watching my mother die, young and racked with Cancer, the broken heart and confusion from having my best friend boyfriend of almost 4 years, fiance for one week announce he was gay and drop out of my life forever, living though a crumbling marriage/ divorce, having my next child have open heart surgery…..nothing beats walking out of that hospital and leaving my new born son behind. I still shudder when I think about what compelled me to even be able to do it. I can’t imagine, even been there, lived it, how I pulled that off.
Then there is the muddled blur….the next few days…my memory is hazy though the non stop tears. I remember walking though the mall, shopping for the perfect gifts to leave with my son. The small trinkets that would somehow convey the endless mother love for him and keep me somehow warm and alive to him. My legs still jelly from the birth, stitches inflamed, belly soft but now void and empty, my breasts engorged and leaking..I walked the mall..painfully choosing the perfect pen to inscribe the perfect book, with the prefect stuffed doll for my perfect blue eyed son.
And then the day of the signing…over and over the lawyers? agency reps? judge? I have no idea where I was and who I was with nor anything..but their endless repetition of “no longer your son, no longer any parentla rights, forever ,forever, forever”..untill I wanted to scream from the pain that “forever” brought forth and would do anything..even sign the blasted paper never in my possession..to make them stop.
As an unmet, joyful and excited couple marvelled and cooed over my precious baby, now theirs; I then packing all my meager belongings, waiting for my mother, sad goodbyes, uncomfortable silence, more feelings of shame. As they fussed over the first diapers changed, and made happy phone calls, I was on the cold drive back..5 hours due to traffic into a winter evening sun…mindless chit chat while my body ached to scream “TURN AROUND…I FORGOT MY BABY!” Words never uttered. I was showing them all how “good” I was by being so strong and determined. And with that thought I pushed myself back into regular life and did what I must..I lived. But I was never the same again..and November comes..no matter what has transpired in the 22 years since then.. even with an eventual search and a dear reunion with my now grown man boy son…..and reminds me..No I am not the same. I never will be. I can’t undo it. The day I broke my life in two..I left part of my heart back along that cold winter road..I was permanently blinded by the setting son, the fog of tears…
Yeah..”stomped” on is a pretty accurate way to describe it. There are no words that really convey it. “Stomped” is as good as any. And I guess if “stomped” is just as good as any other word, then “gotcha” is as good as it’s opposite. Just a word? Sure…many meanings..yeah.
I say “Gotcha’” makes me feel yucky all over again..even for just a tad…it makes me shudder. I see it on board, in a thread, a post, a card..and my stomach flops.
Yes, my breath catches. I am not your child’s mother..so your word for your day should not effect me…but is the loss of a child different across international borders? Is the feelings of separation and emptiness any less though different years, different eyes? Are my tears any less bitter, more sweet?
You say “Gotcha” and my mind races back to those days….with no regard to what it might be like, was like, is like. There is no room in the word “gotcha” for me. And while I can understand the feelings of joy my son’s parents had…heck, I comforted myself with the fantasy of what it was like for them..to balance it out, to give the pain some meaning, some purpose besides myself…I like to think that they did think of me..wondered too..if I was sad and feeling alone, empty. Like I thought of them..full of joy..loving my child.
The word hurts me. I have as much control over that small sharp feeling from Gotcha as I do over how I feel during the month of November.
Whether you care or not is up to you.
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16 Comments
I care…and I never liked Gotcha either – for my kids. It sounds like I kidnapped them (and I didn’t for anyone who would like to think so). We call it Family Day and celebrate both families that day – the one formed by a judge and the ones left behind.
I’m sorry for the pain…
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GOTCHA is not for this mom either. I don’t want my children to ever feel like they were taken and GOTTEN..We celebrate family day too but we celebrate on our anniversary the day our family really began. I totally care Claud…I know that is not the point but I do care and abhor the word as well.XOXO
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Thank you for teaching us through your vulnerability and openness. As an adoption professional I am always in the process of growing and learning how to support and care for the entire adoptive family system. The language we use will express how we view that system.
Michelle
www.michelleharwellmft.com
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As an adoptee, I can’t say that I like Gotcha Day much either. It implies that I was a thing to be owned, a thing that ownership could be transfered on. At best it implies that somebody won me. It minimizes me as a person, a soul, I was not something to be snatched up.
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Whoa. Your post took my breath away. As a future adoptive parent and the cousin to an adoptee from China, your post was profound; hard for me to read. It’s easier to pretend that the child that is now yours or will be someday just came into existence one day. I am not crazy about the term “Gotcha” either (which is what my aunt uses) and I HATE the term “birth woman” that is suddenly vogue and also a term my aunt uses. My sister in-law gave up her baby many, many years ago and I have not once, until I read your post, ever thought about that day for her and what she must have gone through. My heart now breaks for her. I am glad I found your post today. Thanks for sharing and peace to you this November.
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(((Claude))). Thank you for writing this. As an adoptee it helps me so much to hear your words and heart.
Gotcha Day is so disrespectful, as is so much in the way adoption is done in our society.
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I’m glad I was raised before celebrating Gotcha Day became such a big deal. My birthday sucks enough without adding another day to the calendar that reminds me of being adopted. And I agree, the word Gotcha makes me shudder, as if I’m something that was picked up at the grocery store (got eggs, got milk… oh, and we got you too). I feel the same way about January (my birth month) as you do about November. Coldest month of the year, always snowy and dark and miserable. I understand what you mean about it being a season.
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Thank you for posting! When we were new to adoption we heard this phrase and didn’t think anything of it. The first time I heard differently from blogs by adopted people we removed it from our vocabulary. I am thankful that there are people that will let adoptive parents know what is hurtful so we can do our best to be more respectful.
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Thank you!! for sharing your story. My husband and I were adopted by our two daughters (sisters) two years ago. They were already in grade school and had been in foster care for over three years. Our terms for their first parents are well, *first* parents. No one can ever take that away. I hope that’s logical and respectful. Thanks again for sharing your story.
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My a-parents never used “Gotcha Day.” As a child, I don’t think it would have bothered me – I was proud to be such in an important part of the family.
And then… after I started contact, I realized how dismissive it would sound to the families who LOST a member of their family.
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This was a hard post to read. I am certain that most of us who use, or have used “Gotcha” have never meant to diminish or demean the other parties in the circle that is adoption. Before we left to meet our girl, I had read various posts on this topic. It was one of those conversations in my head that I never did conclude.
In a recent post noting that day, I used “Gotcha” quite liberally. I think maybe in our focus of the last year of adjusting and attaching and settling in, I just let my previous thoughts on this topic fall by the wayside. For lack of an alternative and in the crush of our busy life with five kids, I let it go. Now, I’m feeling the need to pick up the internal conversation again. It’s never been explained to me quite so well and with such respect for all parts of the dynamics.
Family Day doesn’t feel right for us because the day that we were all united (incidentally 1 year ago today!) again in our home was our Family Day. And that was almost two weeks after our girl was placed in our arms. The four older children needed to have her in their arms to know she was finally real. So, Happy Family Day to me . . .
I don’t agree that calling it Gotcha Day is always indicative of disrespect or dismissal, or of a consumer-ish mentality. I can’t speak for others, but for me it’s been about a way to express that THAT is the day that I GOT the honor of holding physically in my arms that gift that had long been consuming my heart. That THAT is the day that I GOT to give my whole self to her (she got me) and that the hubby and I GOT to start the journey in person to learning and knowing her whole heart. I’ve just learned here today that I might need to consider that there might be a better way to express that.
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Claud, this post tears me up. We have always used “adoption day” because that is just what it is…his adoption day. We didn’t “get” our boys that day we adopted them.
Your post makes me really think about what Gus’s mother must have gone through when she relinquished him. She held him the same day we arrived in Guatemala and held him. On that day his mother held him, his foster mother held him, and we held him (and he was only 8 days old). When I found that out I started crying…to have that connection to her meant the world to me. If only I could have met her…
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I get your post. As a parent by adoption, I am acutely aware that if it wasn’t for the difficult decision made by moms like you, I would not have the privelige of being a mom. When we celebrate my children’s birthdays, my thoughts and prayers always go out to four very special people to me. I am not one of those parents who believe that God mean’t them to be mine. I don’t believe that God would cause a teenager to become pregnant so I could have a baby, nor do I believe that God would cause a woman to become pregnant in China and abandon her baby because of a stupid law so that I could have a child. Rather, i believe that God can take difficult situations in this fallen world and redeem it.
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Never used “Gotcha” to describe the day we met our children, just always seemed odd to me.
Of course we there was the joy in meeting our children for my husband and I, but it was heavily tempered with knowledge of the immense sadness their first moms experienced. I know I will never forget the day we brought our son home, also the day his first mom was given the court’s TPR, and the first day we finally got to meet her face to face. I remember trying to assure her that we wanted her in our lives as much as we did her son, and knowing that not much I could say would make it easier for her. There have been many times since then we both go back the to the place we were that day emotionally, but I feel fortunate that we have continued to support each other and each remain firmly mothers to our son. No matter what the court papers say, she is and always will be his mother.
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Interesting – I was just looking for a bracelet I received when I adopted my daughter when I ran across this site. The bracelet has our adoption date and the word “gotcha”. I had no idea the negative connotations out there. I thought it was lovely – but I have to admit, it never occurred to me the “gotcha” was unilateral. I felt she “got” us as much as the other way around.
Our travels started in the foster program. We picked her up at the hospital at 2 days old, and spent 2 years trying to put her birth family back together in some way. Formal adoption was yet another year down the road. We continue to have a relationship with her birth father, so maybe our we’re somewhat desensitized to this, but I like the idea of “gotcha” day. It implies togetherness. As Sonny and Cher liked to say, “I got YOU, Babe”. Not, “I OWN you, Babe”. I appreciate hearing the other perspective, and I will be more sensitive regarding this term, but I think I will continue to wear my bracelet. And at some point, I’m sure I will gift it to my daughter as well. …that is, unless she feels the same as some of these readers.
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